


Same Old Circuit

by SaturatedThoughts



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-09
Updated: 2013-02-09
Packaged: 2017-11-28 16:10:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/676320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaturatedThoughts/pseuds/SaturatedThoughts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everything is always fine.  More than fine.  Perfect.  But there are these moments when Liam and Zayn finally have free time that Liam can't help but obsess over.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Same Old Circuit

**Author's Note:**

> My first Ziam fic to start writing, thought I would start with something short; hope you enjoy!

They're so rare, but when you get these moments, when you two can do anything in the world, and Zayn just isolates himself and refuses your offers to go out for a jog or any another activity you name; you can't help but feeling oddly self conscious.  
  
They're so uncommon but you can't help but feel that he needs to get away from you.  He says "I’ll miss you, babe" half heartedly without looking up from his book as you get ready for your run.  But you just know he won't.  
  
He could put that book down the second you leave his sight and you would never know.  God knows what he'd do then.   You had this happen before and remember where it lead. Everything seems so perfect.  But that's never a good sign.  Especially when you realize a book is more important than you.  
  
These are your thoughts.  You know you're being silly, but a few minutes into your daily exercise and you have to call him, _maybe_ there's no milk left in fridge. So you call him to check; he lies and says there is.  You know you didn't even have enough for your tea this morning so you raise your voice a little, he just says, "babe, I'm reading, cya when you get back.  Love you," and hangs up.  
  
You can’t help but think of what your mum told you when you first mentioned the possibility of something happening with Zayn.  And although she’s grown to love him, and all the boys in fact as her own, you were the one she raised.  She insists she’s been around him enough to know how things would end.  She brings up old tabloid articles that even though PR has _proven_ them false, you both know were true.  You told her you were just joking with the idea to stop her from worrying, or maybe because you didn’t appreciate someone talking about him like that.  Either way, it did both.  
  
You continue to jog, and turn up your iPod to drown out your thoughts.  Half an hour goes by, you call again, and he doesn’t answer this time.  You run home as fast as you can.  A few fans yell out to you but you can’t be bothered, not when you can catch him in his lies.  You’re not letting yourself be the victim in this situation.  Not again.  
  
You run back and slam the door open, you run up to the bedroom where he was reading in his big chair and he’s not there.  Tears start to form, your heart’s pounding and you know that this is history repeating itself.  And then it comes from downstairs.  
  
“Li, I’m in the kitchen!” that voice you love.  
  
You try to fix yourself as quickly as possible so Zayn doesn’t see you like this.  You flush the toilet when you notice you’ve been taking too long and run down the stairs.  
  
He’s there, with a gallon of milk and your favourite chocolates.  You get hit with another wave of emotions, you’re fucking thrilled and reminded why you love him, but then you have to ask yourself if he went out when you called him or if he was already out.  But he’s smiling and comes up for a hug, and whispers into your ear that he’s sorry, and then looks into your eyes and tells you that he loves you and asks you if you forgive him.  
  
You laugh and tell him absolutely, and he mutters under his breath, "good, because I already finished half the box waiting."  You go in for another kiss, and he smells so nice you rest your head on his shoulder and just appreciate this moment.  This moment when you don’t have to be doing anything, and are spending it with him, all sweaty, enjoying this long hug.  
  
And then you notice how nice he smells. Far from his usual cologne.  Far from any cologne.


End file.
